


do you need a friend?

by blurhawaii



Category: True Detective
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 15:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17900651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blurhawaii/pseuds/blurhawaii
Summary: Roland regrets perching on the edge of the table to talk to him, too familiar by far, like coffee rings caused by a favourite mug.





	do you need a friend?

**Author's Note:**

> I might add to this over time. Just snippets. There's so many gaps in their timeline, I'd love to venture into them all.

 

“You want to run me through it one more time?”

“What for? Ain’t like it’s gonna change.”

“Just so,” Roland suggests none-too-gently. He brushes his coat off his thigh, reaches into his inner pocket and Purcell follows him with black eyes. Hungry at first then starved when Roland props the cigarette between his lips. Purcell takes the one gifted to him with a trembling hand and leans in close to share the flame, bringing with him engine oil and the smell of sweat, the kind that comes from a night spent tossing and turning. Nightmares had in the light of day always bring about a sharper scent and right now Purcell looks like he’s never slept a day in his life.

Purcell pulls away, hollow cheeked, eyes closed and shuddering. Over his shoulder, Roland watches the mother pour something a little extra into her coffee, hunched over the sink but it’s her paper-white reflection in the window that gives her secret away. Hays is giving the girl’s room another pass through and the uniforms have all kept themselves outside, a spectacle gathered on the front lawn, a local put-on play in its tumultuous first act. They’re alone where they are, seated in the front room, self-isolated by a loveless marriage and a curbed desire to reach out and touch anything his kids might have touched. Roland regrets perching on the edge of the table to talk to him, too familiar by far, like coffee rings caused by a favourite mug. He’d hate to leave this exact memory behind, stained long after he’s gone. By the time Roland dares to look back over, Purcell’s eyes are open again, staring right through him.

Roland thinks back to this moment in ‘90 -- something about the faraway stare, this time aimed at the interrogation room mirror, Tom can’t possibly see them but Roland looks back all the same -- he doesn’t remember where he steered the conversation that night, only that Tom hadn’t been interested in repeating himself.

Didn’t push him very hard about that alibi -- no, not really.

But he remembers how Tom’s eyes had stayed dark, even over the flame.

 


End file.
